Legacy
by DarkHybridChild
Summary: [Sacred Stones. Requested fic.] A simple sparring match between Duessel's prized students and the legacy they'll carry on.


**Legacy  
**_Fire Emblem: Sacred Stones_  
Characters: Ephraim, Amelia, and Duessel.  
Notes: Requested by (and thus dedicated to): ALynnL, who asked for an action scene. Originally she wanted it to be Ephraim and Duessel sparring but given my honestly lack of confidence in attempting to keep Duessel IC and manage to write combat with him, I felt I had to decline. Instead I said I'd surprise her, it'd still have Ephraim sparring with someone, and Duessel would be in it. This fic assumes and implies the route taken for this was Ephraim's and also heavily implies support dialogue and events and that Amelia is a Cavalier/Paladin class. That all said, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

Ephraim stared across the field towards his opponent as he positioned himself into his starting stance, curling his fingers around his trusty Silver Lance in the grip he'd practiced to ensure it would be hard to knock it from his grasp but allow him to maintain near perfect control over it.

Likewise, on the other side of the field several feet away from him, was Amelia, carefully stretching her body before she too, picked up her own Silver Lance and slipped into a stance of her own, gripping the middle of the long pole with her other down towards the bottom, a stance much different than Ephraim's. This only mildly surprised the Lord, before his eyes glanced to the side where his mentor and friend, Duessel was looking between the two of them.

Ephraim could remember the clumsy and unsure stance Amelia once had when they first met and he'd carefully instructed her on a proper stance. When she joined the unit, Ephraim had seen her make great progress, especially after she befriended Forde's younger brother, Franz.

But when she began seeking lessons from Duessel, there was when he truly saw her potential unfold. She quickly gained skill and power and expert handling over her weapon and her growth was exponential. He was not at all surprised when his mentor requested of him to guage her skill with a spar.

"This is merely a test of your skills to see both of your growth. The first one to draw first blood will win this duel, agreed?" Duessel said to them when the two were at the ready.

"Yes, Sir Duessel!" Amelia replied cordially, nodding her head once, but never taking her eyes off of Ephraim.

"That's fine." Ephraim replied, likewise not breaking the stare with the younger woman, feeling an excitement he normally reserved for combat or training with Forde and Kyle well within him at the notion he would be putting his skills to the test. But it was mildly different. He couldn't quite explain how. The fact that he and Amelia were both trained by Duessel may have been the cause of it, because the man was by no means an easy teacher, he expected many things and demanded nothing but the utmost focus and drive.

He'd been prided that he had managed to win Duessel's favor and training, but something about Amelia's rapid growth and power she'd gained and the look of confiedence and quiet strength she now possessed from said tutelage of his mentor excited him, with the thought that perhaps he would find a match for his skills with a lance. The woman could wield a sword, but she preferred the Lance in a 3 to 1 ratio of her dual weaponry usage.

Amelia was quietly curbing the sense of anticipation and thrill blossoming in her chest and fought to keep her breathing collected and even lest she give herself away. Lord Ephraim was Duessel's prized and greatest student, so she had heard. She had seen it that day when Ephraim and his company were in Grado and she'd been but a lowly grunt. When he politely, without disrespect, told her how to correct her stance and improve her thrusts. As embarrassed and intimidated as she'd been, she admired the man. She had no regrets becoming a turncoat to join the Lord's army, because the kindness in the Lord's eyes and his leadership reflected in the rest of the army.

She found acceptance and welcome amongst the group, and made friends. Things she never truly had before. She found kinship with Ross and Ewan, and a great bond of both friendship and rivalry with Franz. But when the great General Obsidian, whose name was Duessel, Amelia was awestruck.

She'd been timid at first, to approach the man, but finding him to be just as calm and friendly as Lord Ephraim, it was not hard to see where the Lord drew his strength from and soon she found herself able to ask the man for some guidance. He expected her to give everything she had to her training, demanded her to push herself to her limits, but never the once, pushed her farther than she could. He seemed to be able to know when she reached her limit, when she was not at her best, and never demanded more than she could give. Her skill and training with Franz came in handy, as she learned to blend the style of Grado's lance training from Duessel in with the Renais style the cavaliers and knights used.

She grew confidant, but never arrogant. She felt stronger each time she picked up her Lance. She was shocked and in surprise when Duessel said he wished for her to sparr against Ephraim to guage both of their skill levels. At first, dread had filled her at the prospect. She was nowhere near Lord Ephraim's level in skill! She wanted to protest to her mentor, but the look in the man's eyes, she saw, was something she could not quite place.

Giving it some thought later, she slowly came to the realization that while the man trained many men, he had never given such personal and individualized instruction the way he had her and Ephraim. And... In a way, who was she to deny her mentor of this request? If he felt she was ready, was confidant in her skills and had the faith to suggest she face off with Ephraim, then perhaps...

Perhaps she was ready.

Now as she stood here, gazing at the Lord, she felt no fear or intimidation, only excitement and a longing to prove and show how much she'd learned. Taking in yet another breath to stabillize herself, she nodded once again.

"Begin!" Duessel called.

Barely even a hair's breadth after the man spoke Ephraim was in motion, charging for the blonde woman.

Amelia was hardly a second behind as her own body pushed into fluid motion. Thought ceased except for her battle drive and the analysis of her opponenent's moves as she brought her lance up and took the first initiative in a large, forceful thrust.

Ephraim's own battle instinct kicked on as he saw the thrust coming and let his body twist and pivot on his heels to the side to nimbly dodge the attack and to regain momentum, continued the full pivot spin and pushed from it into another forward lunge, swinging his lance full force in a horizontal strike for the woman.

Amelia was not surprised Ephraim dodged her attack, but his counter move left her surprised and momentarily open for a moment, but the shock was only there for a moment before she found herself moving, bending her knees and pushing off hard in a backwards jump to avoid the swing. In the air, she leaned forward to reverse her gravity and momentum and brought her lance up and dove toward the Lord with her weight, swinging the Lance down over her head with all her strength as she would a sword.

Ephraim's eyes widened as he looked up to see her coming down at him, swinging her lance as she would a sword in an overhead blow. While he was not unfamiliar with such tactics in the Lance, he was not used to seeing it as it was not a move often performed, it was unconventional. But he did not deny that there was a power and strength to the move, especially as he saw the determined and focused gaze Amelia had.

He met her attack with a defensive one, bringing his lance up with both hands carefully gripping shoulder length apart and blocked the incoming blow with the strong body of the lance, locking his ankles and flexing his knees to absorb the shock when the impact collided with him and let his elbows give a few inches before locking to hold her attack at bay.

His arms were shaking with the effort to hold her lance, he could feel just how strong the woman had become, and likewise, her own body and arms were shaking with the sheer effort and power she was putting into trying to break his guard.

He couldn't afford to drain his strength just holding her off so he dug the back of his heels into the ground and shifted his weight and stance, quickly shifting his weight and twisted his wrists and arms and pushed, directing and pushing Amelia's lance to the side as he surged forward, sending the girl stumbling off balance for a moment and he took the moment to spin on his heel and swing with another horizontal slash towards her open side.

Using her already staggering momentum to her advantage, Amelia pushed off the ground with her heels to fuel the force of her stagger and pushed into a roll, somersaulting over her left shoulder to avoid the Lord's stike before she sprang to her feet and wasted no time in charging for the man again, bringing her lance up, shifting grip and began a series of long and short thrusts as she advanced towards him, looking for an opening.

Ephraim could no longer contain his elation from the adrenaline and a broad grin formed on his face as he watched Amelia dodge his attack skillfully. He was quick to figure out her approach when she began into a series of thrusts aimed at different areas of his body. He began to back up purposefully, careful to be aware of where he was so he could not be pinned in some way and swung his lance with both hands like a staff to parry off her strikes while trying to maintain focus to anticipate where her next thrust would be and not leave himself open, looking for an opening of his own.

It came in the form of Amelia breaking off her attack. He took it and lunged forward, swinging his lance up from his side in a powerful upper cut towards her. The blonde woman had little time to react, but she let her instinctive reflexes kick in and arched herself backwards, the sharp tip of the lance narrowly avoiding her and when she straightened back up, she was already in motion, jumping headlong at the Lord and shifted her lance up and reversed her grip on it, thrusting it down and hard for the male as if she were once again swinging a sword.

This type of move was indeed unconventional, and Ephraim was taken off guard. He was beginning to see the advantage to dual weapon wielding as it gave the woman some advantage to using her weapons in a way most would not expect, and the way she blended her stances and shifted between the way he was familiar with from his training with Duessel and recognizing the stances he saw Franz, Forde, Kyle, and even Seth use when not on horseback gave her a certain control he did not think was possible.

She did not have the advantage, per se, since he was more than keeping up with her, but...she had control. Not of the situation, but control of her actions, her strikes. She handled herself differently than he, but her control over her moves matched, if not mildly surpassed Ephraim's own. She had two weapons to wield, and to blend the moves of them both and incorporate other forms outside of her traditional into it, she indeed possessed skill and control beyond his.

He respected this woman all the more, and it only fueled his battle sense even further. He spun his lance with both hands in a deflecting, defensive move and parried off her strike, sending her to the side again, but instead of taking the opening, jumped further back to take a moment to recover his stamina and energy. Her quick and brutal strikes and lunges drained his strength faster than he thought possible, it had been ages since he'd been pushed like this individually in combat aside from when he sparred with Duessel.

Amelia was panting and trying to catch her breath enough to restabilize herself. She was pushing herself to the limit, putting her all into her attacks, and it was wearing on her. This was the first time aside from her matches with Duessel, she felt this fatigued. Her muscles, her body ached with the burn of the strain, but her soul burned differently; it was ignited with a driving passion, a ferocity to prove herself, it burned white hot.

She immediately straightened and returned to her normal stance when she saw Ephraim do the same, ready for the next series of attacks.

Likewise, Ephraim was feeling that same energy, the same fire blazing within himself. This woman was completely matching him and pushing him and making him strain to keep the pace. While neither were truly gaining any ground, he was in admiration for the blonde woman and her will. Pushing himself and finding the strength again, he rushed for her again, beginning to spin his lance and when he got in striking distance, pushed himself to begin into a complicated style of movement that almost looked like he was dancing as he twirled and lunged, only to back away in a feint and strafe around, continually twirling and swinging said lance about in graceful swings and strikes that were almost unpredictable from the speed only to thrust at her every so often to keep her on edge and look for an opening.

Amelia was unprepared for this new attack Ephraim was assaulting her with, she'd never seen it before, but never the less, she let her instinct and battle senses hone her as she quickly blocked and parried off his swings, trying to strike him when she could. When he'd stab at her, she was hard pressed to avoid it. This was truly pushing her senses and physical body to the limit. But she was beginning to see a mild pattern to his movements. Taking a chance, she waited until he finished his strafe and prepared to thrust at her and jumped to the side, mimicking one of his former moves and swung her lance in a wide horizontal slash.

Ephraim's eyes widened again, he was not expecting her to attack! His cognitive sense wasn't able to process this fast enough, but his survival instinct was and he dove to the side to avoid the swipe and did a one handed vault to put some distance between them again as he recovered.

They were both panting heavily, nearing their limits, and yet... Neither were wishing to give in or call it.

Ephraim straightened once again, bringing his lance up and watched as Amelia did likewise. However this would end... Ephraim was sure he'd feel as if he came out winning, regardless if he did indeed lose. But he wasn't going to make it an easy win for the woman, to be sure. He was amazed and felt utter respect, and some degree of pride that this woman was pushing him this way, that she'd grown to be this strong, and his mentor had raised another fine student.

It was Amelia who broke their stalemate in staring by running straight at him and once again surprised him by taking once again to the air with a hard jump. This time instead of swinging the lance like a sword, she pushed into a momentum and force driven dive straight for him, letting out a loud, fierce battle scream as she put her whole force into it.

Unable to resist the fire, the force of her battle will, Ephraim responded to it, once more twirling his lance and at the last moment, leaped upwards towards Amelia in answer, thrusting his own lance with all of his strength, crying out as well.

There was the loud sound of metal grazing metal and fabric being torn before both landed, backs to one another, breathing heavily. Ephraim stood, a large gash across his chestplate and his cape was shredded and hung by a thread on him before it collapsed under its own weight and fluttered to the ground off of him. He turned his head slowly to look to his mentor for a decision on the match.

Amelia was breathing heavily, a large slash mark across her own chesplate and shoulder-guard. After she gained her senses to look herself over, a sharp pain surged through her as a delayed reaction and she looked down to her arm. On the inside of her forearm on the left side, there was a large gash, and blood was slowly pooling from it. "Ah..." She whispered softly, bringing her other hand to cover over the wound before looking up and to the side towards her mentor.

Duessel straightened himself when the two looked towards him and cleared his throat. He saw Amelia's wound, and sighed. "While I would indeed like to declare this a draw due to your matched skill, I'm afraid the technical win goes to Ephraim."

"...Huh?" Ephraim questioned, before turning to look at Amelia.

Amelia turned to face the Lord as well. Slowly, she pulled her hand away to reveal the mark on her arm. "You won, Lord Ephraim. ...Yet I somehow feel as if I came out of it winning, too."

The Lord felt himself smiling. "I would have felt the same if it had been you who won, Amelia. You've matched me on your own, with nothing but your own skill and drive. This may have been a technical win, but you've more than proven yourself my equal." He turned to face his mentor, smile turning to a faint grin.

"You've picked a fine student, Duessel."

The man laughed quietly. "It seems I have nothing to worry about, with my old age now. You two will carry my legacy proudly."

"S-Sir Duessel..." Amelia stuttered in quiet awe, her eyes widening. Tears welled to the corner of her eyes as she fought her emotion at being praised by the Lord and by her mentor.

"You've still got plenty of years in you, Duessel. Do not count on dying just yet. But indeed, your legacy will be upheld. This, I swear." Ephraim replied, before turning to face Amelia again.

"Thank you. I've learned from this, I had thought there was nothing more I could."

Amelia struggled to breathe, but this time from her rushing emotions than adrenaline. "N-no. Thank you, Lord Ephraim. I've never... I've never felt so exhilarated as I do now. I too, still have things to learn."

"Why don't we spar again some time? I'm sure there's still more we could learn by trading skills." Ephraim offered, holding his hand out to the woman.

Breath catching in her throat, Amelia shakily took the Lord's hand with her own and nodded. "Y-yes! Oh... Thank you, Lord Ephraim!" She once again remembered the whole reason she joined the Lord's army. His kindness, his drive. His acceptance meant the world to her.

Duessel watched the two and let a fond, almost parental smile rise to his face. Indeed, he truly had nothing to worry about in leaving the future in their more than capable hands.

He could not be any prouder.

-_**End**_-


End file.
